A Bed Well Made
by Giacinta2
Summary: Dean gets back from consigning the Impala for repairs to find Sam putting clean sheets on his bed. Turns out there's a very particular reason for it! Tag to 'Baby' episode 11.05. One-shot. Gen.


On his way to the kitchen for a well-deserved coffee after consigning the Impala into the hands of the local motor shop to repair the extensive damage she'd suffered on their last hunt, Dean reflected sadly on how he'd once have worked himself on his best girl, fixing her up lovingly in Bobby's yard.  
The old hunter had disposed of every conceivable tool needed for the job, not to mention the well-furnished beer and alcohol stash he kept in the cellar, and the tasty chilli he cooked up.

But, Dean sighed with a pang of sorrow, those days were no more.  
Bobby was in heaven, and according to what Castiel had referred, closed in a cell-like room reliving his best memories.  
It seemed Hannah had forgiven the old hunter's rebellion and packed him back off to his little angle of paradise, bolting the door firmly behind him.

Dean cringed at the idea that one day that might be his final destination, it didn't seem all that much better than Hell!

:

He was still deep in his morbid musings when he approached Sam's room. The door was open and he could hear his brother bustling around inside.

Stopping to peep in, he called to him. "Hey!"

"Hey," Sam replied, glancing over. "You get the Impala settled?"

"Yeah. I hate to leave her there all alone, but we just don't have the necessaries to work on her here."

Sam nodded, but Dean could see his little brother was thinking exactly what he had been. That once he'd have been drinking a beer while watching his big brother fix the car up at Bobby's.

:

Dean lingered in the doorway watching as Sam made his bed, tucking the sheets and covers in with military precision.  
"Dude. All you need is a pretty apron dotted with pink cup-cakes and no one could mistake you for anything other than the perfect little housewife." he teased as he observed the perfectly made bed.

He envisaged his own rumpled lair.  
When he was feeling in the mood, he'd yank up the covers but he usually just tumbled out of bed straight to a cup of coffee. After all, he was gonna crash on the bed again that night so what was the point of fussing over a few sheets!

Sammy though was as precise about making his bed as he was with everything else he did. His Sasquatch brother had even begun to iron his shirts to perfection... now that they actually possessed an iron!

:

"Didn't you just change your sheets a couple of days ago?" Dean asked, remembering Sam fussing around in the laundry room pinning up sheets and pillow cases on the antiquated clothing lines to finish drying.

"So? Didn't know there was a law that tells you how often you gotta change your bed-linen."  
Dean frowned. "You never even slept in those sheets, Sam. We went out on that weird 'goulpire' hunt the same day. There's something else going on here."

Sam rolled his eyes.  
"Yeah, I smuggled in a bevy of smoking hot strippers, and the sheets got so yucky I had to change them," he snorted. "If you open the wardrobe you'll find them all inside!"

:

But Dean had no intention of settling for that answer. Sam was hiding something and he wanted to know what it was.

"You gonna talk or am I gonna make you?" Dean threatened, though the twinkle in his eyes belied the menace of the words.  
"There's nothing to say," Sam repeated. "Can't a guy change his sheets whenever the fuck he likes..."

He just managed to get the words out when Dean jumped him and pushed him down on the bed. Sam let out a yelp as he fell backwards, his brother topping him and holding him down.  
"Now then Sammy. I want the whole truth and nothing but," he teased.

"Get your heavy ass off me " Sam bitched, squirming ineffectually beneath him.  
He might be the taller of the two but Dean was 'butch ' as Sam had often told him and could hold the younger man down almost effortlessly.  
"Not until you spill," Dean insisted.

Sam let out a vexed huff before answering.  
"It was for the smell, okay!"

Whatever Dean had been expecting it wasn't that.  
"The smell?"

"Yeah, the smell. Castiel spent more than two days camped out on my bed watching TV..."

"You're telling me Cas smells. Dude. Isn't that a little over the top?"

:

"It wasn't your bed he was using, Dean. So I should know," Sam specified.  
"Okay, " Dean nodded. "He smells. Care to elaborate?"

:

"When he was human, he showered like everyone else, but when he's an angel he does that self-cleaning thing. I dunno... snaps his fingers and smartens himself up through angel mojo."

"And...that leaves a smell?" Dean said incredulously, so surprised that he loosened his hold, allowing Sam to heft him onto the floor, ass-down.

"To me it does," Sam huffed, getting up from the bed.  
"Look at it like this. You can buy products to dry-shampoo your hair but it can't ever do the job that hot water and a herbal shampoo can.  
It's the same with Cas. It's like he... dry-shampoo's himself from his skin to his trench-coat, but it leaves him kinda tacky.  
So that's why I changed my sheets. Happy now!"

:

Dean stared up at him, a smile curling his lip before he burst into uncontrollable laughter, rolling on the floor at his little brother's feet.

"Oh Sammy, don't ever change," he managed to say wheezingly just before his sibling stomped out of the room.

:

The End


End file.
